Insurance companies.
My superpower is the ability to retire to Fortress of Fear and use the Computer of Doom to hack into the financial accounts of every health insurance company, and divert all of their assets into Zimbabwean bonds, thereby cause a nationwide collapse of private health insurance.
Gah! Damned camouflage! I was so close to triumph too. No matter. The master plan will go ahead as scheduled and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it. Mwah-ha-ha-HA!
Wrong. Black corduroys, yellow dress shirt, yellow, blue, and beige plaid vest.
Do your worst Jimbo. I have powers beyond your comprehension. 
How many times must I tell you to STOP SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT? :mad::mad::mad::mad::mad::mad::mad::mad::mad::mad:
Anyway…I’m sending a dozen Cheetara and Tygra clones to get you out of the mess you just got yourself into to.
Supersonic ultra bass killer. Any time some inconsiderate ass insists upon forcing his “music” down others’ throats (particularly at 2am in a residential area), my super weapon will take out his stereo for a minimum of 2 hours.
…If they can find her…:dubious:
I will have an invisible force bubble around me that causes all the cyclists on the sidewalk to go flinging off into traffic as I walk along. It only gets activated at speeds of five miles per hour or over so other pedestrians can walk safely as well.
I keep repeater-scopes trained on S’kat and a few other Dopers at all times for just such occasions.
What?
I would use the vast reserves of accumulated cash from stealing all the gold out of Fort Knox and the knickers out of Emma Stone’s laundry hamper to manufacture IC’s for car stereos, which would be of indisputably excellent quality, but sold at a loss so steep that their use would be soon adopted by the entire industry.
Once the Muddy IC’s were truly ubiquitous, their undocumented feature would be enabled, and any devices played at volumes likely to cause discomfort or annoyance to fellow commuters on a regular basis would automatically lock up, outputting only mp3 audio of Paul Anka’s “Having My Baby” on an endless loop, and preventing the user from turning the volume down, turning the unit off, or switching to another function.
Key in the ignition? It’s all Anka, all the time - and at the bone-rattling, bowel-emptying volume that triggered the trap in the first place.
[maniacal laughter]
Wuss.
Add some C-4 to that Mother, Darwinize those troublemakers. 
:: googles to make sure I know who I’m talking about ::
Um…isn’t she like 12?
I was thinking Emma Peel.
The solution depends entirely on how many Scorpion Men will be required for the plan, and how much of California is going to be left depopulated (and thus available for Scorpion Man resettlement) afterward.
(Also, how well Scorpion Men stand up to a California hard frost. 
)
Doesn’t sound like there’s any paisley there. You are safe. For now…
Relevant xkcd.
Wooden ice cream spoons. I freak out. I cannot do anything else while one is being used. I’ve been known to get up and get the user a real spoon.
I’m sorry, but I don’t see how this amounts to a supervillainy rampage, unless you’re disebowelling the wooden spoon users with real spoons. You must therefore be destroyed.
Have you ever thought of a hobby?
Sailing, stamp collecting, rapine and pillaging?
All my hobbies involve hitting things with sticks: playing the drums, golfing, and baseball. And torture.
Oh, good, my chimera beasts were hungry. I assure you, Skaldy, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself (and it usually involves fire, because fire fixes everything.)
I almost put on a paisley tie last night and posted a picture, but unfortunately I’m having computer trouble. grumble
People who do not turn on their lights - and not just the parking lights - when it’s raining shall be drowned.